Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“I went last week and Sena loaded me up,” I say vaguely.
“Well, you’re forgiven for going without me since you’re sharing now,” she drawls.
“Thanks, bestie,” I throw back at her.
“So Molly,” Birdie says, settling back against the opposite counter. “How do you know Livia?”
“We grew up together.”
“Both Portland girls,” Juno says with a bright smile. “And what do you do, Molly?”
“I’m an ER nurse at Portland General.” She picks up her wine. “Twelve-hour shifts, rotating schedule, the most interesting and terrible things you’ve ever seen in your life on any given Tuesday.”
Juno wrinkles her nose. “I can only imagine.”
Molly looks around the kitchen with appreciation. “Whose herbs are those?” Molly asks, tilting her chin toward the windowsill.
“That’s Juno bringing much needed girl energy to the place,” Birdie says with a knowing smile.
“They needed to be there,” Juno says with the slight defensiveness of someone who has already had this conversation with herself. “Crosby only has salt and pepper.”
“I don’t know how he ever survived without you,” Birdie says with a wave of her wineglass. “But let’s not talk about boring stuff like that. I want to know all the most interesting cases you’ve seen in the ER, Molly. Or I’d settle for scandal.”
We eat at the island because nobody suggests moving to the dining room. Juno’s pad Thai is excellent and the wine flows freely. Since we took an Uber, we don’t need to worry about who’s driving.
Molly tells a story about a patient who came into the ER convinced his arm was broken when he’d actually just slept on it wrong, which leads to a broader discussion of the things ER nurses see that they can never unsee, which leads to Birdie describing the particular claustrophobia of living in a pressurized saturation chamber for thirty days at a stretch and the creative ways the divers keep their sanity.
“Thirty days,” Molly says. “Continuously.”
“Continuously,” Birdie confirms, twirling noodles around her fork. “You eat there, sleep there, decompress there. You go down to work and come back up to the chamber. You don’t see natural light for the duration.”
“How do you not lose your mind?”
“Some people do,” Birdie says pleasantly. “Those people wash out of the program. The rest of us learn that we’re more comfortable in small spaces than we thought.” She takes a sip of wine. “I actually sleep better at depth than I do anywhere else. The pressure is—I don’t know. It feels like being held.”
“That’s what they make men for,” Molly quips.
Birdie snorts. “No thank you.”
Molly’s eyes flare wide. “Oh, wait… are you a lesbian? I didn’t mean—”
Birdie doubles over laughing. “No, I like men just fine. Just don’t need one to hold me at night.”
“Birdie has a distinct aversion to monogamy and commitment,” Juno announces.
“Why?” I can’t help but ask. Because as much as I hate how my relationship with Grant turned out, I love being part of a team.
Birdie shrugs. “I don’t know. I just… like my freedom, I guess.”
Juno kicks her gently under the table. “That’s what all the non-monogamists say until they fall helplessly, head over heels in love with someone.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head adamantly. “That won’t ever happen to me if I can help it.”
“Famous last words,” I say, pointing a noodle-wrapped fork at her.
Molly refills everyone’s glasses and leans back on her stool. “Okay. I need the inside scoop. You all work around or are adjacent to professional hockey players.” She looks between the three of us. “Who’s the hottest?” Then stares pointedly at Birdie. “Understanding you’d only be interested in banging one and not marrying him.”
Juno rolls her eyes. “That’s easy. Crosby, of course, and I’ll fight anyone who disagrees.”
“You don’t count because you’re involved with him,” Molly says with a laugh. “You’re compromised.” She looks at Birdie. “You.”
Birdie considers it with genuine seriousness, which is somehow funnier than if she’d answered immediately. “Objectively? I’d have to go with Locke Donovan.” I jolt in surprise, not that he’s not gorgeous. In fact, he’d be my answer, but… well, I don’t know why that surprises me she zeroed in on him. I know they had a connection at Thanksgiving, so maybe she’s interested in testing those waters.
That doesn’t settle well within me, and I try to call myself out on it. I have no right to be upset by that at all.
And yet… he kissed me. It’s me he’s interested in, right?
“But he’s terrifying, so it almost cancels out,” Birdie adds, and I blink to focus on her.
“Almost?” I say before I can stop myself.
Birdie lifts a shoulder. “I’m all about the risks, baby. So yeah, almost.”
I look at my wine, hoping the answer to why I’m feeling slightly jealous is in there.
It is not.
“What about you?” Molly asks me.
“I’m not playing this game,” I say.
“You literally just played it by commenting on Birdie’s answer,” Molly points out.